


Only When You're Sleeping

by BlueShoo



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Manga Spoilers, Mild Language, Sleep Sex, Sleepwalking, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-09 01:46:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1139986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueShoo/pseuds/BlueShoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Macro used to sleepwalk when he was younger, so maybe that's why he knew the signs when Jean came crawling into his bed in the early hours of the morning. <br/>Even with the guilt of sleeping with someone who has a girlfriend and wont remember a thing in the morning Marco still welcomes his friend back every night. This could be his only chance to be with Jean after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Exhaustion of Remembering

 

When I was younger, about twelve years ago now, I used to sleepwalk. I would leave my bed in the middle of the night, causing my parents great distress. I never got into much mischief, but the thought that I could have easily walked out of the house in the middle of the night brought my mum to breaking point.

I can’t remember much about that period of my life, except that my parents were always fighting.

“Marco needs help!” My mother would shout, her beautiful face aged with fatigue. My father would scoff and blame me for the things I couldn’t control. He wasn’t a bad man, he was just worried.

So maybe that’s why I never worried about Jean. Even if our cases were nothing alike, other than the common element of nightly adventures and unexplainable exhaustion.

“Marco.” He would coo into my ear, his nose nudging playfully at my neck as I tried to brush him off. He was asleep, but boy did he know how to work a man’s body.

With all pretence of annoyance long forgotten by the first week of Jean’s sleepwalking sexual advances I pulled him into my bed where he crawled on top of me, sliding one hand skilfully up my shirt, my skin burning as his fingers dragged along my semi-naked flesh.

“Jean.” I moaned, placing my own kisses on every inch of his body I could reach. Everywhere except his lips, because those lips did not belong to me.

No, those lips belonged to Mikasa.

I tensed momentarily, the guilt and betrayal of sleeping with another girl’s boyfriend crushing my insides. But there was no time to waste with Jean; he always had this uncanny way of bringing those thoughts to an abrupt close.

“I love you. God, I love you Marco.” He whispered. I hissed when his fist reached below my pyjama pants and took hold of my hardening cock, stroking it lightly, but with undeniable purpose. In return I reached my hand out to mimic his actions, but he grabbed it, pinning it carefully above my head.

“Jean, stop messing around.” I whimpered, his dick looking painfully hard in his cotton boxers. I wanted to touch it, to taste it, I wanted to make him feel good too, but in his dreamy state Jean was always in control.

He slid from the bed momentarily, leaving me panting and aching for more, before jumping back on top of me, a small silver square between his teeth and a Durex bottle in hand.

Without needing to be asked I stripped us both down, scattering our clothes across the various surfaces of our shared dorm room, and he lathered his fingers with the clear jelly. Once his hand was placed back around my most needy area he made a show of slowly running his hand up and down, his thumb and forefinger occasionally stopping at the tip, kneading it tenderly, driving me insane.

“Please Jean!” I cried out, my body over-sensitised and desperate for firmer contact with his. And without warning his fingers disappeared from sight, pressing into me, making me feel painfully aroused. He moved them in and out, curling them against my inside walls, adding another finger, until at last I was shivering, incoherent, begging, pleading, dying for something more, and he retracted them entirely.

“Shh, Marco, I’ll make you feel even better.” Jean crooned, positioning himself against my entrance as I lay panting beneath him. He dripped a touch more lube onto his own member, spreading it on sexily with his hand before pushing slowly into me.

We both moaned. The entry always burned, but only for a second, the feeling of pleasure far outweighing the pain. And then, after a few slow movements, Jean began to move faster, harder, deeper, and I didn’t even have the ability to hold my voice in any more.

I’m not a screamer, but the sounds I make of a night, with Jean pounding almost urgently into me, somehow managing to hit sensitive spots I didn’t even know I had, are the most embarrassing noises I have ever heard leave a nineteen year old man’s mouth.

When finally his pace began to slow I was almost sobbing with ecstasy. I could feel his sweat dripping on my hot skin and sliding down, like rain against a car window, the drops racing each other to the finish line. I reached up and wrapped my shaking arms around Jean’s neck, begging him to go faster, and he did.

With one hand supporting him on the bed and the other slipping clumsily against my lube covered cock he rammed back into me, again, and again, breathing harder and harder with every thrust, his own thoughts becoming vocal, the curses and moans echoing around the dark room. His low voice resounded against my ear, until at least he brought us both to a sticky, shuddering finish.

“I love. You. Marco.” He said through pants of pleasure before collapsing on top of me.

I wanted to believe him. But as he regained his normal breathing and returned to his bed, still covered in sweat, love jelly, and all other nasty bodily fluids I knew he didn’t mean it. It was always up to me to clean up after him, and it was only ever me that remembered in the morning.

I gathered up our clothes with a heavy heart, wiped us both down and dressed us as if nothing had happened; because that’s what best friends do.

 

* * *

 

“Jean, it’s time for school.” I said in my usual calm voice. It had taken a couple of weeks, but by now I was more than able to pretend like the night before was nothing more than a pleasant dream. My mousy haired friend groaned tiredly and pulled the blanket over his head.

Even with the morning sun beaming it’s bright rays of golden glow in on us the air in our dorm was almost inhumanly cold so I considered letting Jean stay in bed, but I knew him well enough now to know he would be pissed at me later if he missed his first class.

I bit down on my bottom lip in frustration, the line between right and just blurring and my brows furrowed. He really did need to sleep, but it was Friday and Mikasa was in his first class, so I wreathed the blanked out from around him and tossed it onto my freshly changed bed with hesitation.

“Jean, Mikasa is here!” I tried a different tactic. This time I caught his attention.

He flew up in his bed, bare chest exposed and heaving with excitement, but of course I had lied. I didn’t like to lie, but I was becoming good at it. My whole friendship with Jean was based on lies and secrets.

“Fuck you, Marco.” Jean spat. With the warmth of sleep now gone he trudged begrudgingly to the shower. It took everything I had not to respond to him with “You already have” but there was no point in bringing it up.

I heard the bathroom door slam and the running water, the steam seeping silently under the door and over the carpeted bedroom floor. Sometimes I wished we had a dorm with a shared bathroom; then I wouldn’t have to think about the fact that behind the thin wooden surface was Jean, naked.

“Dude, I feel like I ran a marathon in my sleep! I’m fucking exhausted.” Came Jean’s yawn-muffled voice, snaking out between the rolls of cloud-like waves of steam.

I chuckled half-heartedly and began to dress myself, ready for another day of make believe friendship. And with Jean smelling of shampoo, soap, coffee and all things ‘Jean’ we walked side by side from our dorm to our separate classes.

 

* * *

 

“Why does she have to spend lunch with that dick-face?” Jean grumbled when we met up by the overgrown garden outside our Communications classroom. I didn’t have to ask who he was talking about, because we had already had this conversation a million times.

“He is her brother, Jean.” I responded as I always did, much to Jean’s annoyance. He glared at me and I took that as my hint to be quiet and let him complain.

“He’s her _adoptive brother,_ Marco. There is a difference. You’ve seen the way he looks at her; like he would kill for her. He’s a fucking psycho! I bet he already has. I wouldn’t put it past him to off two grown men for her attention. Incestuous bastard.”

“Stop bringing up that old rumour!” I said. Jean scoffed and faced me.

“Who says it’s a rumour?”

“You’re joking, right? You’re the one who started that stupid thing!” I reminded him incredulously. Jean broke into an over-confident asshole-ish smirk.

“Oh yeah. It was pretty good though, right? Admit it, it was hilarious.” I sighed, my favourite response to Jean’s imperious side, and rolled my eyes.

“Can we just go eat? I’m starving!”

“Yeah, yeah, hurry up.” Jean said as his stomach made a guest appearance in the conversation, loud enough to bring a screaming baby to shame. “Lunch hall?”

“Subway?”

“Fuck yes! This is why you’re my best friend, you know that?” He laughed, swinging his arm across my shoulders and around my neck, pulling me into a headlock. “To Subway!”

“To Subway!” I laughed, and so we walked. Until Mikasa.

“Mikasa!” Jean shouted happily, out-of-the-blue, running up the gorgeous, dark-haired, Asian girl standing a few feet down the path. I followed slowly.

Jean’s girlfriend was gorgeous. She was everything I would never be; smart, beautiful, funny, and with an air of graceful strength. I had never seen her fight, but there were rumours. Rumours with enough evidence to terrify the entire school; warning them never to touch her brother Eren, or their friend Armin, unless they did not wish to see the light of another day.

“Ok, I will see you at five then.” My slightly shorter friend said adoringly to his girlfriend. Even with my eyes wandering aimlessly, looking everywhere but at the two people in front of me, I could hear the soft smack of their lips together, sounding like a suction-cap being removed from a wet surface.

At least it was a chaste kiss. Thank you PDA Police! Aka, Connie and Sasha. Now all I had to worry about was watching people peck each other on the lips, the kind of thing your grandma does at family get-together, just without all the “Oh my, how you have grown! It feels like just yesterday…” You get the drill.

“Subway!” Jean shouted again once he was done locking lips, and this time we actually made it to the store.

 

* * *

 

With the days passing slowly and the semester nearly at an end it was obvious that mine and Jean’s secret nightly meet-ups were becoming too much for either of us to handle.

While the nights were full of passion and lust, our days were spent in almost uncomfortable silences, both of us too exhausted to speak without ripping each other’s head off.

“Fuck!” Jean yelled one morning, closing his textbook and sending it flying across the room, barely missing my head.

“What is your _problem_ , Jean?” I snapped, shocking us both.

“My problem, _Marco,_ is that no matter how much sleep I get I still feel tired as hell the next morning! I have an exam in two hours and everything just goes in one ear and out the other!” The stress was too much, giving me no choice but to leave the room, only returning five hours later with a pile of papers and looking like a zombie.

 

* * *

 

“Where did you go?”

I was greeted with an almost accusing tone, my best friend resting awkwardly against his pillows. He was probably sitting up at one point, but now he was almost lying down. It looked kind of painful.

I swallowed hard, bracing myself for the inevitable hurt that would follow my explanation of disappearance.

I didn’t want to tell him just yet. I didn’t want him to hate me, but I also knew what needed to be done.

I paced in front of my bed for a while, trying to find the right words, before deciding on none and walking silently across the room, handing the papers crumpling in my hand to Jean.

He scanned the top page, eyes flicking back and forth rhythmically, eyebrows creasing deeper with every line.

“What the fuck is this?” He finally asked, brandishing the papers in front of me, making me feel intimidated, even from the safe distance between us.

But it was now or never. There was no way for me to get out of saying it now. I straightened up and cleared my throat subtly, begging my distress and hurt not to show as much as Jean’s was. He could read, he knew what they were, but I said it anyway.

“I’m requesting for a room change.”


	2. Big Mistake

 

“What?”

Jean’s hoarse voice finally cut into the silence like a diamond through glass. The air in the room became thin ,making it hard for me to breathe.

“I said-“

“I heard you.” Jean snapped. “Why? Is it because of me?”

“No! God, no Jean, of course not!” I panicked, the half truthful words rushing out too fast.

“Don’t fucking lie to me Marco! I know I’m not the best person to be around, I know I have a shitty temper, but couldn’t you have just talked to me about it? We’re supposed to be friends!”

I took the last sentence like a blow to the chest, flinching as his words slashed out, breaking the surface of my skin and spilling my blood pitifully on the floor. But he was wrong.

“It’s not that! It’s- You need sleep Jean. I need sleep. And neither of us are going to get that unless I change rooms.” I reasoned, my words a mix of conviction and assurance to myself. It’s not like I hadn’t thought about the possibilities of Jean replacing me. Even if I changed rooms, who was to say he wouldn’t just move on to his next roommate? But I couldn’t think about that right now.  

“Me being tired has nothing to do with you!” Jean said. His eyes were as frantic as my heart felt, both searching through every corner of space between us, trying to make the other understand, neither of us finding what we were looking for, what was sitting in plain sight waiting to be found.

“But it does. It has everything to do with me. It’s my fault and I can’t stand to see you like this anymore.” I said. I couldn’t be specific. It was best if Jean never knew what went on in the cover of darkness, in our moonlit room. He didn’t need to know what went on in my bruised and beaten heart.

Finally he sighed, ran his hands through his two toned hair and looked at me defeated.

“When do you…?” He gestured to the pages he had dropped on to the floor in all the fuss.

“I’m going to hand in the forms tomorrow. But I can’t actually change rooms until the end of semester, dorm policies.”

“Oh.”

We settled back against the opposite walls of our shared room, both looking towards the other but not directly at each other. The tension in the air was like an untimed bomb, ready to explode with any sudden movement; Jean’s face the big, red, ‘DO NOT PUSH’ button, and I had no doubt that the slightest bump would set him off again. It was only with great trepidation that I finally spoke.

“It’s for the best.”

 

* * *

 

And so life went on.

“It’s over!” Jean said collapsing back onto his bed, his hand draped carelessly across his long, thin face. I repeated the words in my head, the meaning and feeling of the three syllables entirely different. The work was over, the semester was over, and my time with Jean would soon be over.

I seen Jean’s hands rise silently into the air, his palms pressed firmly together like a yoga pose, and then they were apart, and brought back to their original position twice with two loud claps. I watched him carefully as he sighed and let them fall effortlessly back to his sides.

“We should get clap lights. I’m too tired to go over and hit the switch.”

I laughed, really laughed. Like the kind of laughter that happens at two am, when you are too tired to care what you are laughing at, or how loud you are, or that the joke wasn’t funny at all, but you just need to laugh. It went on for a long time, both Jean and I laughing until we finally forgot what was funny in the first place, but still continued to choke out giggles and snorts every time we tried to stop.

With my eyes bleeding tears and the stitches in my stomach aching I rolled onto my side, my eyes locking with Jean’s across the carpeted floor.

“I think you’re right. Clap lights would be great, wouldn’t they?”

“Yeah.” Jean said breathlessly. “My cheeks hurt.”

“Mine too.” I said rubbing at my jaw. It was nice to be normal again, but the thought that this would soon be over didn’t stop itching at the back of my mind. “Lunch?”

“Why not? Mikasa has plans again anyway.” Jean mumbled, sounding annoyed, but not as annoyed as usual. I didn’t dare hope that he enjoyed spending time with me enough to forget about Mikasa, but of course the thought skipped over my mind and I had to ask.

“How are things going between you two?”

Jean, who had stood and extracted his mobile from his pocket hummed, trying to bring his eyes to mine but only managing to move his head towards me, his focus still entirely on the phone.

When finally he looked up I repeated the question.

“How are things with Mikasa?”

He shrugged.

“Same as always I guess. We actually don’t meet all that often, so it doesn’t even feel like we are together to be honest.”

I didn’t reply. What could I say? What’s the point in pretending to be sympathetic?

 

* * *

 

The café gave off the feeling of a warm hot chocolate on a cold winter morning, its air steaming our faces and the delicious brown of the walls injecting us with bliss and tranquillity. The smells that settled themselves in our nostrils made my head cloudy with desire, and Jean and I found ourselves ordering before we could even come to grips with our hypnotic state.

“Two titan size Cappuccinos please. This place makes the best cappuccino I have ever tasted.” Jean informed me, much to the pleasure of the tall, lanky man behind the counter. As he passed us our identical, steaming, disposable cups his face grew red and he smiled a smile so forced it almost seemed painful.

“Have a lovely day!” The barista squeaked out, and we wandered through the strong fumes of coffee and cake to an empty table in the corner.

I breathed my coffee in, my lips like a vacuum on the edge of the cup, dragging a few drops of boiling liquid up into my mouth with a slurp and singeing my taste buds.

“Ow, fuck!” Jean cursed my inner thoughts, bringing his own cup down to the table and pinching his tongue.

I stared as he prodded it innocently, dragged it along his lips and bit down on it softly. I could almost feel the all-to-familiar actions against my skin and I couldn’t help wishing we were back in our room, the mood shining in on our wet and naked bodies.

Slowly I lifted my cup up again to hide my surely reddening face, Jean still poking at the burn and staring off at the new barista that had appeared just after we left.

“Do you know her?” he asked curiously, an eyebrow rising at the same time as his own cup was raised to his lips.

I glimpsed back at the counter, not at all subtly, to find a short, blonde girl in the cafes brown shirt and green apron, a stony stare plastered on her stern face. I had never seen the girl in my life, but the way her eyes bored into mine made me nervous, and I made a mental note to keep my distance.

“No, I don’t think so.” I said in reply, shooting one last quick glance at the girl before turning my attention back to its rightful place: Jean.

“She looks like she knows you.” He observed, discreetly eyeing the girl down over his steaming cup. He shrugged, “Oh well, so what were you saying?”

I wasn’t saying anything, but there were a million things I wanted to say so maybe now would be a good time to start.

“I wanted to ask you something.” I began. Jean gestured for me to go ahead and I looked down into my titan sized coffee. “Why do you hate Eren so much?”

The question was a surprise to both of us. Not only were we not talking about Eren, but that was not what I wanted to ask at all.

“Uh, well, I don’t know Marco, just everything about him pisses me off. He’s just such a confident prick. You can’t help but hate him, y’know?”

I shook my head, trying to hold back a smile. Where was Jean’s maturity?

“And he’s always all over Mikasa!” Jean continued, my smile dropping. “As if Mikasa will ever see him as anything more than her brother. She is way too good for him.” I sighed. Had I really expected this conversation not to turn into something about Mikasa?

“Jean…” But I couldn’t find the words, and I knew Jean didn’t want to listen, so I tried something else.

I moved my cup carefully to the side of our small table and reached over, twisting my hand in the front of Jean’s shirt, and hauling him towards me. I looked at his eyes, the confusion and annoyance in them sending my heart pounding, the closeness making me feel braver than I actually am. I gave his shirt one final tug, crushing my lips painfully against my best friends, not caring that the entire café was staring at us in shock, Jean’s wide eyes mirroring the onlookers.  

There was no round of applause, this wasn’t a movie after all, and as much as I wanted the kiss to last, for me to finally be able to taste Jean’s lips on mine and enjoy it, there was barely a second before I was shoved back, me and my chair flying onto the floor, my head hitting it with surprising force and my vision darkening.

In the distance I could faintly hear someone calling my name.

 

* * *

 

“Marco, hey, wake up.”

The darkness of the room almost engulfed my friends pale face, but I still recognized his neutral expression immediately; it was Jean. I pushed myself up onto my elbows to peer around at my surroundings, my eyes slowly adjusting and my thoughts becoming clear.

“’Was just a dream.” I concluded in my sleep soaked voice, slumping back down onto my pillow, my eyes stinging from tiredness and my heart pounding as it usually does when I am woken up.

I squinted up at Jean, his bed hair looking sexy as always and his plaid pyjama shirt half unbuttoned. Of course, I was being woken up for _that._

I sighed. For the first time since the beginning of our unusual relationship almost a year ago I didn’t really feel in the mood to play part in our near-nightly rendezvous.

I balled my fist up in his shirt and tugged, much like I had in my dream, his forehead almost colliding with mine and his eyes widening in surprise.

“Marco,” He said, digging the palms of his hands into my mattress to keep himself supported. Ignoring his protesting wriggles I sunk my teeth into Jean’s exposed neck, then released the flesh and ran my tongue across the mark, silently hoping it was still there in the morning.

“Marco,” he said again, his body settling itself submissively against mine.

I was in control.

But then everything crumbled.

I studied Jean’s reactions, taking pleasure in every hitch of his breath, every twitch of his back, every escaped whimper, moan and curse as I worked my hands and mouth up and down his chest and throat. Finally, copying what Jean had done to me many times before, I lifted my knee and began to rub it against Jean’s material covered hard on; except he wasn’t hard.

“Jean,” I said, my eyes widening in horror. Oh god, what had I done. Jean was always hard when he came to me in the night. That was _why_ he came to me. That meant…

I looked into his eyes, the brown orbs as horrified as mine, and in an instant I was pushing him off me, Jean also flinging himself back across the room and creating a safe distance.

“What-“

“No. Don’t, please don’t say anything!” I begged. I could feel my heart crushing more with every step of space Jean put between us. “I’m so sorry.”

As I ran from the room I didn’t need to look back to know Jean wasn’t following me. I had screwed up, and there was no way to fix it. If Jean didn’t hate me already for putting in a room change form than he would definitely hate me now, and I deserved every last drop of that abhorrence.

I ran for ten minutes before finally collapsing back onto a park bench near mine and Jean’s usual meet up spot, my hands covering my face. At least there was one good thing about all of this; it all happened close to my moving day.

“Just six more days.” I said to the empty bench. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was happy I had done it. Selfishly I wished it would bother Jean as much as it had been bothering me, so he could finally feel the pain I felt every day.  

“Just six days,” I took a deep, shuddering breath, “and then I can finally forget you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to anyone who reads this story! I have no idea what to say! I'm too tired to think any more and I'm going to bed! BUT!! I finally finished this! Happy Australia Day! YAY! Wow, how disconnected this is... but seriously thank you guys that read this and an even bigger thank you to those of you who enjoy it! It makes me super happy when I write something people enjoy, and I'm fairly new to fanfiction so it's great to know I'm not entirely hopeless at writing a story people will want to read!


	3. Forgive and Forget

I looked up at the stars, or where the stars should have been, the thick tree branches blocking everything but the tiniest slivers of moonlight from entering the otherwise dark garden. The weeds and rotting old bench gave the place an almost haunting feel, but to me it was beautiful.

It was here that I would meet Jean, my eagerness to see my roommate almost embarrassing, but tonight I knew that he wouldn’t come. And I almost didn’t want him to. Almost.

I sighed and rested my head against the back of the rickety bench, watching as the night air stole my breath from my lips in a puff of white smoke. _Like a train,_ I thought in an attempt to amuse myself. But at least trains could escape.

The wind picked up, blowing through my clothes like ice daggers, sending a chill down my spine. I had run out on Jean, not sparing a second thought to my bare feet or boxers and tee, or the fact that outside was cold enough to kill. No one ever thinks of the consequences in the heat of the moment, but eventually they catch up to them. I shivered and pulled my feet up under me, bracing myself against the cold as best as I could.

“Stupid.” I whispered to the eternal night, closing my eyes and letting my mind wander back to Jean.

_Jean. His unexpectedly soft hands cupping my cheek, his warm kisses covering my frozen skin, his beautiful eyes staring into mine. I was shaking, or maybe it was him, we were too close for me to be able to distinguish between us anymore._

_“Are you ok?” He said, his hands slipping from my face to my shoulders, still shaking uncontrollably. I tried to respond, but no words came out. His eyes turned almost frantic. What was wrong? Jean?_

_“Jean?” I said softly. His face and grip on me relaxed a little, concern turning to confusion. And then he was shaking me again, harder than before._

“C’mon buddy, you can’t sleep out here or you’ll freeze to death.”

Everything was hazy. Snow was falling, the ground patched with white and water, the air cold enough to sting my lungs as I tried to gulp it down. For a second I forgot where I was, who I was, my eyes darting around me in a panic until I recovered enough to remember.

“Jean?”

The guy in front of me slowly helped me into a sitting position, dusting off the specks of snow from my hair and pyjamas. It wasn’t Jean. It was… Well I wasn’t exactly sure who it was.

“Hey man, are you alright? You’re freezing!”

“I’m… fine.” I said, followed by a sneeze. The boy sighed and stepped over to join me where I sat, the old bench letting out an agonized squeal under his added weight.

“Bodt, right? I’m Reiner Braun. We were in the same social studies class last semester.” He introduced himself, offering me one of his large hands. I took it.

“Oh yeah, you’re Ymir’s friend, aren’t you? Sorry, I didn’t recognise you. I’m Marco- uh, my first name I mean.”

Reiner smiled, his whole face lighting up in a way one could almost call cute, even on such a manly guy, and I felt my own lips tug up at the corner.

“Don’t worry about it! So Marco, what brings you to this overgrown garden in your PJ’s at four in the morning?” He asked, shrugging off his jacket and offering me the hoodie underneath it. I tried to decline, but he just shoved the warm, oversized piece of material down over my head and grinned.

For a minute I was silent, listening only to the soft murmurs of the trees around me, whining as the cold wind picked up their leaves and tossed them about indifferently. I loved the winter; the taste of snowflakes on your tongue, the feel of the wind on your nose and in your hair, the rain on your roof, or window, or face. It was always so beautiful to me. But tonight the cold just felt lonely.

I let my eyes drop, falling to my hands and wandering over to where Reiner’s were folded in his lap, my eyes catching on something on his left wrist. Even in the dark I could see the vibrant colours against his slightly tan skin. The blond boy’s eyes followed mine and he chuckled.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to jump you or anything. No offence Bodt, but you’re not really my type.”

He pulled the rainbow band back and let it go, the _snap_ resounding in the chilled and empty air.

“No, that’s not what I was thinking! I was just… It was a surprise to see it, that’s all!” I panicked, now suddenly wide awake, but Reiner only laughed harder.

“I was just messing with you. You’re a fun guy Marco.” My face felt hot, even with the wind pressing up against it.

“Can I ask you something?” I said after a beat. Reiner shrugged and I began to speak, wording my question carefully. “Have you ever liked your best friend?”

He grimaced, giving me a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

“Isn’t that always the way? Who doesn’t like their best friend at one stage or another? Is he straight?” I nodded and Reiner frowned, his mind a million miles away as he continued. “Mine too. So is that why you’re out this late?”

“Kind of.” I don’t remember how it happened, but somehow that set me off into a whirlwind of confession. I told Reiner (almost) everything, from how Jean and I had been friends for two years, to when Jean began sleepwalking, and finally to how I ended up on this isolated bench so close to winter break. I wouldn’t have imagined that, even in my wildest dreams, I would be able to tell someone I just met about so much, but Reiner was just one of those people that naturally made you feel safe and understood.

When I finished my explanation it was almost five-thirty. The slowly rising sun was blinding but with it came a warmth that I welcomed whole-heartedly. Finally, Reiner spoke up.

“That’s quite a story.” He said, my chest feeling lighter when he didn’t ask questions. I didn’t really want to get into any more than I had already revealed. “But how about we go sleep for a while? I’m tired as fuck, and you look like shit. C’mon, I have a spare bed.”

I squinted a smile through the early morning light as he stood from the bench. “Yeah. Thanks Reiner.”

 

* * *

 

The sun shone through the unfamiliar window, the rays interrupting my attempt at sleep. I sat up and peered around the room, once again confused as to where I was until I remembered Reiner and our conversation earlier.

“Mornin’” a gruff voice growled from the bed opposite. When my eyes were clear of sleep I could see the stranger, his blond hair short and his broad chest exposed, rising and falling peacefully as he breathed. 

“Good morning Reiner. Thank you for letting me stay here.” I said, feeling embarrassed after blurting my life story out to an almost complete stranger the night before, but he didn’t seem to mind. Instead of a reply he stumbled to his feet, the blanked wrapped tightly around his shoulders, and walked over to where I stood beside his spare bed.

“You must have been super tired Bodt, you fell asleep before your head even hit the pillow. Want to go get some coffee? You probably need it.” He offered, the clock on the wall chiming one pm as he spoke. I smiled but shook my head.

“I should probably go apologise. Another time though. My treat.” I said. Reiner agreed, on the circumstances I gave him my number so I couldn’t back out, and we chatted for a few more minutes while I gathered my nerves to head back to my room.

With one final “good luck!” from my new friend I mustered up all my courage.

“Thanks again, Reiner.” I called over my shoulder before walking out.  

 

* * *

 

I brought my hand to the door, my knuckles white and firm against the wood, but still I couldn’t knock. My mind was filled with a million what-if’s, none of them pleasant. At that moment there wasn’t anything I could think of that would be more painful than Jean’s rejection, and it froze every bone in my body.

But I had to talk to him. Even if I couldn’t explain _everything_ , I could at least try to make him forgive me.

The hallway behind me bustled about; people leaving for vacation, teachers sorting out last minute rooming details, parents helping pack. Everyone’s lives went on, completely oblivious to my inner turmoil. Why was it that everything could go on when I was so stuck?

Maybe that was what I needed. I needed to move on, to step forward, to… open the door and apologise so I could be forgiven, and we could both forget.

It took a whole of fifteen minutes and a few strange stares for me to realise one simple detail; it was my room as well. I didn’t need to knock. But I did anyway. Finally, with more force than I meant to use, I banged on the dorm door.

No answer.

Taking a breath I turned the knob, hoping to god Jean was alone. He wasn’t. He wasn’t even in the room. The only piece of evidence to where Jean was: a text message on my phone.

_Staying @ Connie’s. U can have the room._

My fingers fumbled at the keys, my heart loud in the empty room.

_I want to see you._

_We need to talk._

_Please forgive me Jean, I am so,_ so _sorry!_

I typed out each message in turn, deleting them before I could hit send. _Maybe I could get Connie to tell him,_ I thought with a sigh. I stalked over to my bed and flopped onto my mattress, my hands coming up to cover my face. I was a pretty shitty friend.

As if on cue my phone lit up, its default message tone causing me to jump. I shook my head clear of all thoughts and peeked at the screen. It was a number I didn’t know.

_Hey, it’s Reiner. Just thought I would make sure you didn’t give me a fake number :P Hope everything’s good._

I smiled at the screen, thanking Reiner for his perfect timing, and hit ‘call’ above his number. It only rang twice before his deep voice responded through the earpiece.

“Didn’t expect to hear from you so soon. Missing me already?” He joked.

“Oh, definitely.” I said, earning a chuckle, “Actually, Jean wasn’t home so I was wondering if you still wanted to hang out?”

The phone was silent for a minute, panic slowly creeping into my veins with every passing second. Perhaps he was only being polite before and he didn’t actually want to go out. Or he already had plans. Or-

“Why not? I have nothing else going on.” He said, “Meet you at The Titan Shifter Café in ten? I work there so we can get a discount.” He added, his smirk almost visible through the phone line, and hung up before I got a chance to reply.

 

* * *

 

“You worry too much!” Reiner’s booming voice rang through the small café as I entered, making it easy to spot him among the other coffee-sipping customers. He was standing by the counter, his back to me and his arms, as always, crossed intimidatingly over his chest. “You’re just naturally clumsy, but that doesn’t mean you’re not amazing at what you do.”

“Yeah Bertl, listen to Mama Braun!” said a dark haired girl, handing Reiner two steaming paper cups. A few listeners chuckled and Reiner, finally noticing my presence, patted his tall friend on the back and walked over. 

The café was buzzing with noise, every man and his dog apparently in the mood for coffee, but the small shop was pleasant and welcoming. Its strong aroma filled my lungs with caffeinated air as I walked slowly forward, almost tripping on a chair, to meet Reiner by a group of empty seats. He smiled, one occupied hand coming around me in an awkward half-hug half-backslap.

“I didn’t know what you wanted but coffee seemed appropriate after your all-nighter.” He said, passing me one of the milky-brown drinks. I made to protest, I had planned on paying as my thanks, but he held up a hand and sat at the nearest vacant table.

“Thank-you.”

“No worries.”

We sipped our drinks in relative silence, the almost familiar atmosphere of the coffee shop engulfing us. For the most part my mind was still filled with Jean, and as I watched Reiner I knew his attention was elsewhere as well.

His eyes were hard with concentration, boring into the tall man he had been speaking with before. A small smirk shadowed his features with amusement at the clumsy barista, the affection clear on his face.

So this was who Reiner liked?

“How’s the coffee?” He asked, finally dragging his eyes away from his friend. I took a long sip, the hot drink sliding down my throat with a bitter-sweetness that only came from sugar loaded coffee. It was delicious. Every tastebud on my tongue danced, singing for more, and it took everything I had not to down the entire cup in one go.

“Amazing.” I said, taking another sip and sitting the cup on the table in front of me. Reiner took a mouthful of his own beverage and hummed his approval.

“You hear that Bert?! Your coffee is amazing!”

The barista blushed, sweat forming in small beads on his forehead and top lip, and promptly upended the cup in his hand, spilling it all over the counter. Reiner hid his laugh under a cough.

“So you’re one of those guys that bully the person they like?” I observed with raised eyebrows. Reiner smirked.

“Only Bertholdt. His reactions are just too hilarious not to tease him a little.”

I looked over at the still blushing giant behind the counter and had to agree. There was something about those types of people that just made you want to tease them. I didn’t want to think it but I had to wonder, _what if that’s what Jean was doing to me?_

I doubted it. His eyes never showed any trace of remembrance, let alone admiration when he looked at me the next morning. There was no way he knew what he was doing.

I groaned softly into my once again raised cup. _Come on Marco,_ I thought to myself while taking a sip, _you’re better than this! You’re not some whiny two-year-old, you’re a happy guy! Just forget about that for now._

And so I did. For the first time in what felt like forever I pushed all thoughts of Jean aside and found my smile. But Reiner didn’t get the memo.

“So Jean,” he said, wiping away a milk moustache, “he’s the guy Eren is always badmouthing, right?” I nodded.

“Are you friends with Eren as well?”

“Nah, not really. We’ve been trying to get him to work with us here but he’s just not giving in.” At my questioning look he added, “That guy has won awards for his work as a barista. We could really use him.” And as if to confirm this, the tall guy, Bertholdt, slipped, taking down his co-worker with a _thud._

“Oh.” I said, both of us grimacing at the pathetic scene with pity.

“Yeah.” The macho blond replied, dragging out the vows with raised eyebrows. “Not that Bert, Ymir, Annie and I can’t handle this place.” He defended, his eyes soaking in the small café with adoration, a small, peaceful smile hovering on his lips.

“It sure is a gorgeous shop.” I said, more to myself than to anyone, my sight landing on the various pieces of artwork I had missed around the room. When I looked back at Reiner he looked like a proud father, his face soft and gleaming. But then I spotted something. A painting- its contents and colours and style all jumping out at me from right behind my companies head. It was breathtakingly beautiful, but at the same time so heartbreaking. It filled me with overwhelming emotion and I was unable to look away.

“’The Battle of Trost District’ by Berthold Fubar.” Reiner said, his eyes following mine. “It’s beautiful isn’t it? I don’t know where he comes up with all these ideas. This was the only one that wasn’t too gory for the shop.”

I studied the painting with amateur eyes. It was the sight of a small town behind a wall with children standing atop. The entire view was from eyes tall enough to see over the structure into the bustling streets where people worked and played and danced. But somewhere in all the calm and tranquillity was fear. Fear and regret and anger and loss. Those kids had seen more than I ever would. The eyes of the painting had seen things I couldn’t even begin to imagine. It was all so stunning, so _real._

It was a painting I would never forget.

 

* * *

 

My eyes stung, my head buzzed, and I felt better than I had in a long time. But I needed a nap. When I skipped up to my room I dug around in my pocket for my keys and pressed the small piece of metal into the lock, the door swinging open with an audible _click._ From there I practically flew at my bed. I had never been so tired in my entire _life!_

I sunk into my mattress, my entire body cocooned in my blanket, and smiled at the wall. So this was why people stayed up all night? I wriggled in closer until my body was pressed against the cold plaster and closed my eyes. The faint smell of Jean filled my nostrils as I buried my head in my pillows and waited for sleep. Until my phone began screeching from the depths of my blanket burrito.

I wriggled about to extract it, almost ready to cry from frustration when my hand finally made contact with the thin device.

Connie: _Hey Marco, are you busy? Can I come over?_

I groaned and uncurled myself before replying ‘ _Sure, see you soon’_ and slinking into the bathroom to wet my face. 

Within five minutes of me replying he was at my door. Since it was Connie he didn’t bother to knock, instead just waltzed in and kicked back on Jean’s bed, his hands behind his bald head and his face turned towards me with a frown.

“Since when does Jean sleepwalk?”

“What?” My eyes went wide and my body numb. It’s not like I thought he would just stop because he wasn’t here, but what was going to happen now if he found out? I swallowed hard, waiting for Connie’s reply to snap me out of my thoughts.

“Jean slept over in mine and Armin’s room last night. Well, I’m pretty sure he was asleep. He kind of just…” The bald kid made a variety of incomprehensible gestures, his arms flying from his body at all angles as I readied myself to explain, “Tried to walk out.”

I stared at my friend in silence. Jean tried to _walk out_? Doesn’t he mean _Jean tried to have sex with me in his sleep?_

“What?” I said again, feeling slightly dumbfounded. “Why?”

“Hell if I know man! I thought you might, since he was calling for you when we put him back to bed. Armin said it’s best if we don’t tell him but… I dunno. I just feel like he should get help or something, y’know?”

I did know. I had thought about it so many times, but each time I just couldn’t bring myself to say anything. I didn’t want to freak him out, or make things awkward, or, as time passed, make him mad for not telling him for so long. I just wanted him to feel normal and not like a freak like I had as a kid.

And then there was that slight selfish part of me that wanted to keep our strange relationship going, even when I knew it would never last past the night.

“-o Marco! Earth to Marco! Hey!”

Connie was propped on his elbows, his face frowning with concern.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

“I said, what do you think?” I shrugged in reply, my mind still not in the conversation. “Well, either way I think you should come tell him you’re not mad so he can come home. Wait, you’re not mad at him, right?”

I shifted, staring across the room to Jean’s bed, still a mess from his escape the night before, a small smile creeping up onto my lips. I shook my head.

“Why would I be angry with Jean? He is my best friend. If anything I thought he was staying at your place to avoid me after last night.”

“Last night?”

I waved my hand dismissively with a mumbled “don’t ask” and Connie raised a brow but said nothing.

“I’ll call him, alright?”

Happy with my response Connie left me alone to make my call of impending doom. Lucky for me Jean didn’t ignore it like I thought he would, instead he answered almost immediately.

“Marco?”

“Hello Jean.” I said, suddenly wishing I had thought out what I was going to say beforehand. I opted for pacing the room to hold in my nerves.

The other end of the phone was silent, neither of us knowing what to say. I pictured Jean standing in Connie’s dorm, his hand in his almost embarrassingly styled hair, or his thumb nail between his teeth, and a small chuckle escaped my lips.

“What’s so funny?” Came the mumbled reply. So I was right about the nail biting.

“No, I was just relieved you answered.” More silence. “I’m sorry.” I blurted, almost drowning out Jean’s voice speaking the same words back to me. This time Jean laughed, the sound so beautifully sweet against my ear that I felt like melting into the carpet. His laugh was so deep, so manly, so perfect, and I wanted to listen to it forever. This was why I couldn’t tell him.

“So it’s ok if I come back now? I kinda miss rooming with you. Connie snores.” He added for good measure. I giggle to myself, my smile spread widely across my reddening face.

“It’s only been one night Jean.” I said with a roll of my eyes. “…But I missed you too.”

We hesitated for a second, the line silent between us but comfortable. I didn’t want to hang up, I just wanted to stay and listen to his gentle breathing through the phone, but the click on the other end told me he had gone.

 

* * *

 

It barely took Jean a minute to fly back through the door, his arms crushing around me, our apologies shared and waved off, both of us with our own explanations and assumptions.

“What are you apologising for?” Jean asked, his hands squeezing my arms tightly.

“For… Y-you know,” I let out a strangled sound, “jumping you?” Jean looked shocked, but choked back a laugh.

“So you do remember! I didn’t know if you would since you were half asleep. I was worried you thought I was the one attacking you while you were out of it. Wait, that reminds me, what kind of dreams were you having?” Jean raised a dark eyebrows, a knowing smirk spreading across his pale face. I struggled to answer, opening and closing my mouth, getting more flustered every second until Jean held up his hands in surrender. “Actually, I don’t think I want to know… Was it about Mina? Christa? Oh god! Please tell me it wasn’t Mikasa. I know we share a lot of things but I’m not sure-“

“Wow! No. Ew, Jean, I wasn’t-“ I sighed, my mind once again completely baffled by Jean’s thought process.  He laughed and sat back on his bed, his eyes almost nervously searching the room for another topic of conversation to fill the following silence.

“Oh! That reminds me. These came in the mail this morning.” He held up two white envelopes, our schools name printed neatly in the corner. I took the one addressed to me and peeked up at Jean who was already tearing into his. I slid my finger up under the lip of the envelope and tore it open to find a letter of my new room details and a name; Reiner Braun – my new roommate.

I grinned at the page and snapped a picture of it on my phone, sending it to Reiner before looking over at Jean and feeling instantly guilty. His face had sunk into a furious scowl, his eyes darting back and forth, reading the letter over and over. I walked over to him, carefully pulling the piece of paper from his hand and immediately knew what was wrong.

The name had to be a mistake. But there it was in tiny black letters - Eren Jaeger. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh. My. Gosh. This chapter was a pain and a half! It took FOREVER! (But it is like 1000 or so words longer than the first 2) And I'm still not sure I am entirely happy with it but it's as good as I was gonna get it! So I will leave it up to you guys to decide if it was alright or not.. Maybe it was just because there wasn't much Jean? O.o BUT REINER! He is precious <3 And Bertholdt.. They are cuties :) So yeah! Thank you once again for reading! As always feel free to tell me what I can fix about it/what I am doing right so I can keep it up! I love hearing from you guys! ^_^ Ciao for now!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys for reading! Don't question the horribly written sex scene (it is the first one I have written after all). I hope y'all found it at least slightly enjoyable to read! Feel free to tell me how I can make it better for the next chapter! Or even just what you liked about this chapter (if anything) so I can make sure to keep it up in the future! I am an over-user of exclamation points and I apologise.   
> On a side note, the amount of times I re-read this to check for mistakes and read Connie and Sasha and Conna and Sashie is phenomenal xD


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